The Little Duck
by Silverhare
Summary: A Princess Tutu retelling of Hans Christian Andersen's "The Little Mermaid", written in fairy tale pastiche.


Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there existed a vast lake. Its size was such that it acted as the entire border between two kingdoms, and travel between them was only possible by sailing across its shining waters. The lake itself was of unparalleled beauty - many tall trees and sweetly scented flowers of every hue grew by its shores, and it was populated by fish whose brightly colored scales glittered in the depths like living jewels. It was rumored that to catch one of them would provide the lucky person with joy and prosperity forever, yet no one in living memory in either kingdom had ever managed such a feat.

There also lived upon the lake a large family of ducks. Most of them were wary of the humans who frequented the shores of their home, but the youngest duckling had a fascination with them that baffled all the rest. So deeply was she drawn to them that time and time again she ignored the warnings she had been given and swam close to the water's edge when humans approached, even sometimes daring to step onto the land and move amongst them, an action that if observed earned her stern words and sometimes punishment from her parents. Not even her brothers and sisters could not understand her interest in humanity, and so they treated her with disdain and bemusement.

It came to be that the human the little duck was most enthralled with was the prince from one of the two kingdoms on either side of her lake. Every day, he and his best friend, a knight who was sworn to guard him from all danger, visited the lake to gaze upon its beauty. It did not take them long to notice the small duckling who always swam up to greet them, and soon they began to bring bread with them, that they gifted her with as she waddled onto the shore. The prince was pale and fair, with white hair that reminded her of the adult plumage she had yet to gain, and brown eyes that she wished would shine only for her. His friend the knight was taller and darker, and his green eyes revealed little of what he was thinking. He was never unfriendly, however, and indeed seemed as fond of her as the prince was.

One clear evening, when the stars hung in the sky like twinkling gems and the moon cast a gentle glow so that the lake's surface shone like a pearl, the little duck ventured to shore even as the rest of her family slept. She was the best and most graceful swimmer of them all, and was able to move silently through the glimmering waters and embark onto the land without rousing any of them. She moved like a ghost through the woods around the lake, and soon emerged to find the prince's palace looming over her. It was awash with light and music seemed to stream forth from every window, beckoning the little duck forward despite her overwhelming desire, in the face of so grand and immense a place, to rush back to the comforts of her lake. She had come this far, however, and it seemed a waste to turn back without even seeing the prince once. So she bravely moved onwards.

After some searching, she discovered the windows that allowed the royal family and their guests to look out from their expansive ballroom out onto the castle gardens, and thus would allow her to gaze in at the prince. Concealed in the shadows, she watched with a heart full of longing as the prince danced with one lovely young lady after another. His dancing was as beautiful as he was, and she yearned to be his partner herself. She observed also the knight, who stood alone and apart from the crowd, and rarely danced despite being just as talented as his friend, and wondered at his solitude, but most of her attention was reserved for the prince. Small sighs escaped the little duck's beak as she contined to watch him dance, and she wished not for the first time that she could be a human girl and dance with him even once.

"Ah," she thought to herself, "alas that I only have tiny wings, and tiny feet, and cannot even speak my feelings in words he could understand. I would give anything to be able to dance with him!"

So absorbed by her melancholy thoughts and the sight of the human festivities was the little duck that she did not even notice when the stars began to fade and the sky to gradually lighten. She only noticed something was amiss when the prince's party began to disperse, and the prince himself was soon nowhere to be seen. That morning was breaking and she only had a little time - if any at all - to return home before she was missed had only just occurred to her in a rush of panic when the doors to the ballroom opened. From them emerged the knight, yawning with exhaustion from the long night spent awake. The little duck tried to hide as he entered the gardens and walked towards her, but the day's first ray of brilliant sunlight struck her soft downy feathers and betrayed her to his sharp eyes.

"Why," he said aloud upon seeing her, "can it be the little duck from the lake?" He smiled down at her with warm eyes, but she did not make a sound or move, so startled was she at being discovered. "You are very far from home; I cannot think what has brought you here. This is not where you belong, is it?"

Before she could react, he had lifted her in his arms and was carrying her through the castle grounds the way she had come, back towards the forest that separated the prince's palace from her lake. She could tell that he was tired from the ball, but he never stopped to rest even once. His longer strides covered the same distance much more quickly than her small legs had the evening before, but the sun was nevertheless higher in the sky by the time they emerged from the trees, and it made the water sparkle white and gold in the early dawn light. In the distance, she could see some of her family already swimming about, and she could not help quivering with fear at the thought of what they would say to her upon realizing that she had been away all night, especially if they saw her now being held by a human. The knight mistook her tremble of fright as being caused by his carrying of her, and he stroked her small head with gentle fingers and whispered assurances that he would not dream of hurting her.

True to his word, he released her carefully at the water's edge, kneeling in the soft mud without a care as to his fine clothes and setting her down as though she were a fragile egg he feared to break. She quacked softly at him in a meager attempt to show her thanks, and he smiled once more at her, as if he understood her intent.

As she swam away from him, she drifted away into thoughts of what she had witnessed that night. Images of the prince dancing so elegantly with his partners filled her head, and so distracted was she that the little duck did not notice when her parents and some of her brothers and sisters decended upon her in a shared rage. They had indeed spied her being carried by the knight, and were furious at both her absence during the night and that she had allowed a human to do such a thing. They squawked and quacked angrily at her, drawing out the story in terrified pieces from her, and then attacked her with their beaks and their heavier wings, plucking out many of her downy feathers and pecking cruelly at her tiny wings. It seemed to last for many minutes before finally they allowed her to swim away, distraught and in pain from the wounds inflicted on her.

Her ears still ringing with their vicious words, body and heart alike aching, the little duck swam away from them, making for the northernmost shore of the lake. It was said that a wizard who could perform miracles lived there; perhaps he would be able to grant her wish and allow her to live among the humans as one of them. Then she could dance with the prince, and speak with him, and do so many of the things she longed to do. So high were her hopes, even in her sadness at her family's treatment of her, that she did not stop to think about whether or not such a thing was too good to be true.

She had never been to that part of her lake before, and so the little duck was very surprised indeed when she realized that she was no longer accompanied by brightly colored fish swimming beneath her feet, and even more so when a thick white fog arose around her, so that all she could see were the shapes of the tall reeds around her. Even the clear waters were now opaque, so that she could not even gaze upon her own reflection; and the air around her chilled so that she shivered greatly without the protection of her feathers. Yet she had once again come too far to turn back, and so she swam onwards, determined to find the wizard that she hoped would give her her heart's desire.

At last, after what felt like hours of swimming, just as she began to tire, she reached the shore. The sand was drab and grey, and littered with the remnants of reeds and other objects that she could not discern in the mist. As she walked cautiously up the beach, the wall of clouds seemed to part, revealing a ruined, crumbling tower that bore an ancient stopped clock at its highest point. Nonetheless it began to chime as she drew closer, and before she knew it, the wizard was looming over her, drowning her in his shadow.

"Well, well! What have we here?" He was clothed in robes of scarlet, and his hair and beard were pure white; enormous feathers of every color sprang from his hat, and his eyes gleamed as he leaned over the little duck. She was petrified in fear, however, and could not even utter a single quack. "A little duck! What has brought you here, little duck? Only do speak up!" His grin grew wider. "I am not in the business of entertaining visitors, so if you are lost then turn back, little duck; however, if you seek a spell or favor, then perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement."

"I - well - I!" The little duck stopped short, her eyes growing wide with shock as she realized that human speech had come from her beak, rather than the quacking sounds she was accustomed to.

"Be not afraid, little duck." The wizard leered at her. "Many impossible things may come to pass while you are in my domain, yes yes. You should not expect to take them all with you when you leave, however. But do tell me what brings you here. Eh, eh, little duck?"

"Oh, please," the little duck said, taking a step forward even though she was trembling in fright, "oh please, will you make me a human girl? You see, there is a prince I love, and I long to speak with him, and dance with him, and live in his kingdom with him. Can your magic accomplish this?"

"Certainly! I can grant this request, little duck, without any trouble at all. But are you certain?" He leaned further down, and his eyes seemed to take on a sinister glow. "For no magic comes without price, and nothing is ever gained easily. Are you prepared to accept this?"

"Yes, I am," the little duck replied, and her voice quavered only a little. "It is my heart's desire above all else."

"Ah! But you have not even heard the terms of that which you are agreeing to, little duck." The wizard stroked his beard thoughtfully. "First of all, you must know that once this deed is done, the transformation is permanent, and you can never again return to being a duck. No longer will you be able to live upon the lake with your family. Is that truly acceptable to you?"

The little duck looked down at her plucked wings, and thought of the harsh words that had been spoken to her, and the pain of their beaks pecking at her body, and of all the poor treatment she had endured from them thus far on account of her affection for humanity, and her resolve strengthened itself. "Yes." She nodded her small head. She might miss the lake itself, and the long days spent languidly swimming its waters, but she would not miss being an outcast amongst her fellow ducks.

"Good, good! But that is not all! You must also give to me your ability to swim so silently and skillfully, and none of your grace on the water will be yours once the spell has taken effect. You will move clumsily and awkwardly, and will cause yourself much pain from stumbling and falling and colliding with things. Are you able to accept this as well?"

"I - I will," answered the little duck, though her heart sank to think of it. She would never be able to impress the prince with her dancing, if that was so, and he would laugh at her clumsiness. But it would be worth it to be with him, and talk with him, and he was so kind that perhaps he would not mind dancing with her despite her lack of grace.

"I see! Lastly, then..." And he paused, grinning ever wider, and the little duck felt a chill pass over her. "If you are to win his heart, you must do so without telling him how you feel about him. For if you utter words of love to the prince, you will at once transform into a speck of light and vanish into nothingness. Is this a risk you are willing to take? Eh eh, little duck?"

"I - but, but... if I cannot enchant the prince with my dancing, nor with words of love, how ever am I to win his heart?" the little duck asked in a tremulous voice.

"Your kindness, your exuberance, your pretty little face; surely these will be enough to endear your beloved to you?" He rubbed his hands together. "To anyone else you may speak those words, because I am kind enough to allow you to bid a tearful farewell to your family before you are parted forever; but to the prince and the prince alone you must remain silent on the subject of your true feelings if you do not wish to disappear. You still have time to swim away and return to your life as a humble duck if you are not prepared to deal with me; but I warn you that you will not find anyone who is willing to do this favor for you without asking at least as steep a price." He bent down until his face was a hairsbreadth from hers. "So what do you say? Eh, eh? Little duck?"

"Very well," said the little duck, though she felt almost faint with fear. "I will do it."

"Oh! That is good!" He sprang up then, and snapped his fingers - and in an instant, perhaps less, a massive book was in his hands, and he flipped through the pages quickly. "Let us see, for it has been some time since such a thing has been asked of me..." He found the correct spell soon enough, and traced one gnarled finger down the yellowed page. "Hmmm... yes, yes... ah... I see!" He snapped the book shut and grinned again at the little duck. "You are in good fortune, little duck, for if you had not come to me on this precise day, I would not have been able to help you for another year and a day."

He summoned to him then a great cauldron, and added to it many things that she did not recognize, and muttered words in a language she did not know. Before she knew what was happening, he had filled a bejeweled goblet with the simmering, steaming liquid he had created. And then he was picking her up with ungentle hands and forcing her beak open to pour the potion down her throat. It burned as it went down, and then froze, and then bubbled, and she choked, but somehow she managed to swallow all of it, and was left gasping afterwards as she was set ungraciously down on the damp sand.

"There now!" The wizard clapped his hands. "It is done! Swim back, little duck, swim to your prince; but swim quickly, for soon you will not be a little duck any longer, and will drown if you are not careful."

It was all the little duck needed to hear, and she rushed into the water and began paddling her little feet as quickly as she could; but before she had swum far, she turned back to look at the wizard, standing on the shore. "Thank you," she managed to say, in a voice that was half-quack, half-croak.

"Thank me? Ha! Ha ha ha! Do not thank me until you have wed your prince!" He vanished from her sight then, and his laughter echoed in the misty air.

The little duck swam as fast as she could through the fog, ignoring how her legs began to ache with exhaustion, hoping that she would be able to carry herself far enough before the spell took effect. Through some sort of magic or luck she was able to make it through the mists more quickly than she had on the journey to the wizard's domain, and she did not begin to transform until the place where she always met the prince and the knight was close enough that she did not need to fear drowning.

The transformation was painful and disorienting; her legs and body lengthened and became that of a human girl, her webbed feet turning into toes, her wings into arms and hands. Her feathers dropped off around her, but felt like they were being yanked out of her new human skin; her beak shrank and became a mouth, her head reshaped itself and hair grew from her scalp. She stood up in the shallow water as the metamorphosis completed itself, and was able to take only a few steps before falling onto her knees on the sand, trembling. She crawled up onto the shore with her shaky new limbs, turned, and stared for some moments at her reflection in the water, at the wide blue eyes and freckled nose and the long red hair that draped her small shoulders and slender body, before fainting away as though dead.

When she awoke some time later, the midday sun was hot on her bare skin and she could hear voices and the tread of boots on the grass. She sat up and wrapped her hair and trembling arms around her naked form, just in time to spy the prince and the knight emerging from the woods. They stopped and stared with shock at her; and it was the knight who moved first, hurrying to her side with a hastily removed cloak that he wrapped around her. The prince then joined him at her side, and was the first to speak, asking her who she was and where she had come from. As she had prepared neither story nor name beforehand, she was forced to pretend to have no memory, something she could tell they both thought was strange, but accepted nevertheless, and the prince warmly told her that she was more than welcome to come back with them to the castle and live there. She gratefully accepted, and the pair helped her walk on her new feet back to the palace, which seemed somehow just as large and overwhelming through a human's eyes as it had through a duck's.

When they entered the palace, the prince saw to it that clothes were provided for her to wear, and she was taken to the kitchens and fed once she had dressed herself. Only the matter of where she would sleep remained to be arranged, and the prince stated that she should stay near him, so that she would be greeted by a familiar face in the mornings. Therefore he gave to her a tiny attic loft and a small mattress, reached by a ladder not far from his own bedroom door. The knight thought this an unsuitable and shabby choice of quarters for her, but expressed his displeasure by merely frowning, and did not utter a word against it, for fear of offending his liege. The little duck mistook his expression as being caused by her presence, and she was sad, for she remembered well how kind he had been to her as a duck, and she had grown fond of him.

In the days that followed, the prince spent nearly every waking moment with the little duck, for he was eager to befriend her and to see her recover from whatever accident had caused her to be found on the shore of the lake bereft of memory, family, and clothing. He spoke often of his hopes to see her memories returned so that she might go home to whatever family awaited her, and though this pained her to hear, she merely smiled brightly and agreed that this was her wish too. He arranged for clothes to be given to her, and took her riding, for walks on the castle grounds, and on his daily trips to the lake. The knight was always with them as well, being sworn to remain ever at his lord's side, and the three of them spent many pleasant hours together. The wizard's words of warning soon proved themselves to be true, and the clumsy little duck inflicted many small wounds on herself with her lack of grace and her eagerness to run about energetically wherever she went. To her relief, neither of her companions laughed at her as she had feared, but merely patched her up and warned her to watch her step the next time. Thus did the days pass happily for her, with them by her side. Even so, the little duck could not help but hold sadness deep within her, for the knowledge of what would happen if she told the prince of what she truly felt for him hung heavy upon her heart, and for his part he did not seem to feel any more deeply for her than he had when she had been a duck.

Very soon, it came to be that the prince held a ball much like the one the little duck had observed from afar the night before her transformation into a human girl. The prince dearly loved holding balls, for he dearly loved dancing, and held them as often as he could. The latest one was delayed only because he had wished for the curious little stranger he had taken in to get settled before being introduced to society.

"I do not know how likely it is," the prince told the little duck, "but it may be that at the ball you will meet someone who knows you, and thus regain some of your lost memory. Wouldn't that be splendid?"

"Yes, it would be a wonderful thing indeed!" agreed the little duck, smiling warmly even as her heart sank that that, above all else, was why he desired her attendance at his party. She knew he did not mean to be unkind, that in fact he wanted only the best for her, but she could not help but be pained by it regardless.

Even so, she was able to forget her worries for a short time once the ball began. It was a new and exciting thing for her to be on the inside of the ballroom, rather than looking in upon it from without, and she was proud to wear the beautiful gown that had been made for her. She sampled many fine things to eat and drink, and met many new people, and her charming personality was such that she easily made friends. However, before too much longer, she began to grow restless and uneasy, for the prince had not yet asked her to dance, and was spending his time dancing with, it seemed, nearly every other young lady in attendance. She enjoyed watching him dance, but longed more than anything to be his partner, for after all such a thing had been among her chief desires when she sought to take human form.

At last, before she could become too unhappy, the prince approached her with a smile and an outstretched hand. She eagerly took it, and they began to dance together. But as she had feared, her lack of grace on land extended also to dancing, and she made countless missteps, even treading on the prince's feet more than once. He did not once shout or become angry or impatient with her, but when their dance was at an end she heard him sigh with disappointment, and even worse, could hear cruel laughter coming from nearly everyone watching them. Humiliated, the little duck fled the ballroom with tears streaming from her eyes, and hid in the same spot she had as a duckling.

She had only been there a short while when she heard footsteps approaching, and she looked up to see the knight walking towards her. His face was all in shadow, so she could not see his expression, but she glared up at him all the same. "If you've come to laugh at me too, then go away!" she told him between hiccups as she fought to control her sobs.

"I had no such intentions. I merely wished to see if you were all right." He stepped closer, and in the light from the palace windows she could see the genuine concern on his face, and felt guilty for having yelled at him. "Are you?"

"Not really." She shook her head. "But I am sorry for what I said to you just now. I misunderstood." She folded her arms across her knees and laid her head upon them to hide her tear-streaked face from him. "You can return to the ball, if you like."

To her surprise, however, he sat down beside her, and kept her company until the sun rose, when at last she felt ready to return to her little attic loft and sleep, now that she would not have to pass through a crowded ballroom full of people who would whisper and giggle when they beheld her. He was quiet at first, and let her cry until she had no more tears within her, and then began to speak to her of many things, and told her stories to pass the time, and she found herself growing calm and content in his presence.

At every ball thereafter, she did not dance, nor was she asked to dance by anyone, even the prince, and instead kept to a quiet corner where she watched everyone else dance. The knight was kind enough to keep her company, and talked with her as he had the evening she had run out in tears, and so she did not feel alone or miserable. She still longed to dance beautifully, but having a trusted friend by her side helped to soothe her loneliness and even caused her to forget her heartache for a small while. During that time, her feelings for him grew, and those she had for the prince waned, though she did not yet fully comprehend the changes taking place within her heart.

By and by, it came to be that the prince was invited to visit the kingdom on the other side of the vast lake, and it was rumored that his parents desired a marriage between him and the daughter of that land's king and queen. What the prince desired, the little duck did not know, for he spoke little of it; he was too busy preparing for his trip, and most often sent the knight to spend time with her in his stead. When he did have the opportunity to speak with her, the prince instead talked excitedly of what the kingdom itself was rumored to be like, and the possibility that existed there for the little duck if she would only come along with him to see it.

"After all, I have been thinking on it, and it is possible you may be a citizen of that land yourself, who was shipwrecked upon the lake," he told her one day. "You simply must come along and see if it stirs your memories, and search for any family members you may have living there. I feel there is a good chance that you might discover where it is you truly belong if you accompany me there. Will you do so?"

"I would be honored, my prince." She smiled at him, though her heart was breaking. If she did not belong on the lake, and she did not belong in his kingdom, where then could she live? She knew there was no one in that foreign land who would know her, and if the prince did indeed marry the kingdom's princess, what then would happen to her? She doubted very much that any new bride would wish for her husband to keep close a girl such as herself. She would have to leave, but where would she go? Her heart quaked with fear at the very thought. The prince saw some of her trepidation in her eyes, and mistook it for anxiety over leaving her new home, perhaps caused by a buried memory, and hastened to assure her that the ship they would be travelling in was the sturdiest in seven kingdoms.

When all the preparations had at last been made, the little duck, the knight, and the prince embarked on their journey across the lake. As they travelled, the little duck frequently preferred to stand on the deck, watching the beautiful fish swim in the crystalline waters, and her two companions told her all about the human legends surrounding them, a separate one for each different color of fish. She had never heard what it was the humans believed about the fish that she had seen swimming beneath her all her young life, and so she was fascinated by what they had to say.

One evening, as dusk drew down across the horizon and the stars began to awaken one by one, the little duck saw a mother duck on the horizon, leading a new group of ducklings towards the shore. Despite that she preferred to be human, she could not help but feel a tug of longing in her heart at the sight, and was so preoccupied that she did not notice the knight approaching her until he was by her side and speaking to her. He too had seen the ducks, and talked to her of the duckling he had seen every day by the shore of this lake, who had vanished not long before he met her. He had thought the little bird an unusual one, for the ducks of the lake usually kept their distance from humans, and ducklings were seldom seen without their mother close behind. He wondered now what had happened to her, and if she was all right. He told her also of what had happened the last time he had seen the duckling, of how he had discovered her in the palace gardens and carried her back to the lake, and swore her to secrecy that she would not tell anyone else that story. It was then that she made the decision she had been coming to as he spoke.

"I think that I can tell you what became of her. Will you listen?" He seemed confused by her request, but nodded his assent. She swallowed down her fear and began to speak.

"After you left her at the lake, the duckling swam back to her family. She was tired but happy, having spent an enjoyable evening watching the prince's ball from outside in his garden. However, her family had noticed her absence, and had seen her returning in the arms of a human, and so they fell upon her with angry words of reproach, and pecked her, and plucked out many of her feathers. When at last they were done, the little duckling, her heart filled with anguish, made for the northern shores, where it was said a wizard of great power dwelled. She asked the wizard to please make of her a human, that she might talk and dance and live amongst them, and be a duck no longer. He granted her wish, but at a price... and when the deed was done, sent her on her way."

She drew a deep breath, and released it, as she prepared to tell the final part of her story, and dropped her gaze from that of the knight's. She still feared what he would say at the story's close, but she had come this far, and there was no sense in turning back now. "Still in the form of a duck, she swam back, towards the shore where often she had met a young prince and a knight who showed her kindness and brought her food. Just as she reached it, the transformation took effect, with great pain, and afterwards she fell to the ground in a faint. When she awoke, she found that the knight and the prince were at her side. And the rest of her story you already know."

"You?" She looked up to see that he was staring at her as though seeing her for the first time. "All along, you have been..."

She nodded. "I am sorry to have kept this from you for so long... and that I must ask you that it remains between us, just as the story you told me will. I am not comfortable revealing it to all just yet, I am afraid."

"If you ask it of me, I will keep this secret for you, but..." He shook his head, a perplexed expression upon his face. "I wish to know why you chose to tell me when you feel such discomfort with the thought of speaking it to anyone else."

She tilted her head, and frowned. "I have told you because I feel that I can trust you. Is there anything more beyond that that you need to know?"

He was silent for a moment, and then shook his head again. "No, that is fine," he said.

He bid her goodnight then, and left her alone with her thoughts as the ship rocked gently beneath her feet and the last traces of violet faded from the sky above her head. She watched the last of the ducks disappear into the shadows, and then retired to bed herself, all of a sudden tired beyond measure and yet strangely relieved.

The next morning, they arrived in the kingdom across the lake. It was a wondrous land of beauty and song, full of happy people and much gaiety. They were greeted warmly by the king and queen, and a festival was begun in honor of their visit. The princess herself had not arrived yet, however, for she was still traveling home from a school where she learned singing and dancing and all the many important things that a princess must know. The prince and his party, which included the knight and the little duck, were entertained for a full three days before she and her royal entourage arrived at the palace.

She greeted them all at a feast held to celebrate her return that night, and all were in awe of her loveliness and charm. She had beautiful wavy hair the color of a raven's wing, and eyes of rich crimson, and a brilliant smile that outshone the very sun. She sang more beautifully than any songbird, and danced with perfect grace and elegance. Even the little duck was enchanted with her, and smiled as she watched her dance with the prince at the ball that followed the welcoming feast. The princess was kind to her when they spoke, and expressed her hopes that she would regain her memories and find her family, and that they would soon become friends. The little duck was happy at this prospect, for she could not find fault with the princess, and only felt guilt for deceiving her, as well as fear of what the future would bring for her.

They remained in that country for several happy weeks, during which time the prince and the princess grew ever closer to each other. It then was no surprise when at the end of their stay it was announced that they would be marrying and that she would be accompanying him on his journey home, where the wedding would take place.

The trip proved to be one of mixed emotions for the little duck. She was happy for the prince and the princess, for above everything else she wished for his happiness; and yet deep in her heart sadness and fear stirred. She had deceived the prince and all his court as to her identity, and her desire to marry him, which had been one of her chief reasons in wishing to become human, was now dashed. She did not think she could stay any longer, not with the way things were now, yet where could she go? No longer could she return to the lake, and there were no relatives waiting for her in any city. She supposed that she could depart after the wedding to seek her fortune, like humans were wont to do, but she knew so little of the human world that her heart quailed in fear. She also had grown attached to her life in the palace, and those she knew there, so it would be a dreadful wrench to leave them. There seemed little choice in the matter, however, and so she spent the return journey steeling herself for her departure whilst putting on a brave and happy face in front of everyone else.

The wedding feast held at the prince's palace was unlike any the little duck had thus far attended during her stay there. It was many times more grand and extravagant, and she had never seen the castle more crowded. She felt quite lost in the rush of people scurrying about to make everything perfect, amongst so many strangers come to celebrate the marriage of the young prince to the beautiful princess, and kept to herself, not wishing to make it any harder on herself to leave. She had resolved to do it that very evening, and had only to wait for the proper time.

Her chance came during the ball that was held after the feast, as couples whirled about the floor dancing. All eyes were focused on the newly wedded couple, and so she felt that no one would notice her leaving.

But as she slipped out of the door, and ran on slippered feet across the garden, she found herself stopped short by a voice behind her, asking her to wait. She turned to find the knight standing a short ways behind her. She watched as he closed the distance between them, feeling somehow that she was truly seeing him for the first time, though she was not entirely sure why that should be.

"Are you leaving, then?" he asked her, and once again she could not read his expression. She started in surprise at the question.

"How - how did you -" She swallowed hard, averting her eyes to the ground beneath their feet.

"I thought you might." His voice was soft. "I know that you are saddened by the marriage, that it is what you wanted for yourself. I am sorry to see you hurt."

"No, that is..." She shook her head. "I am happy for them. Truly. But..." She smiled sadly. "It is as you said to me once, in this very garden... I do not belong here. I never did, in truth."

"Are you going back to the lake, then?" he asked. "Are you going to return to being a duck?"

"I cannot do that." She shook her head again. "Part of the price I paid for this form is that the transformation is permanent... even if I wished to be a duck once more, I am forever as you see me now. So I... will need to find some other home."

"I see." He considered for a moment, and then held out one hand. "If that is so, then... will you dance with me? Just once, before you depart?"

"I..." She stared at his outstretched hand, and then shook her head a third time. "Your offer is very kind, but as you well know, I possess no grace or elegance and cannot dance with any skill. That too was part of the price I paid for becoming what I am now."

"I do know that." He did not pull his hand back. "Yet still I wish to dance with you. For if you are to leave, I would have your last memory of this place be a happy one - I would like to give you something to take with you instead of the sorrow you felt when last you danced here. To me that is worth any number of bruised toes." He smiled at her as if they were sharing some private joke.

She blinked, to hide the tears that were beginning to prick at her eyes, and nodded. "Very well, then." She placed her hand in his, her small fingers curling around it. "Thank you."

They began to dance then; but somehow, one dance became two, and two turned to three, and on into the night. For the little duck discovered that she did not wish to stop, and found excuse after excuse to keep on, and the knight did not seem to mind, even on the occasions when she trod on his feet. And when he held her close during a slower dance, she realized that she dearly loved him with all her heart, and that her heart would break forever if she were to never see him again after this night.

Before they knew it, they had danced the night away in the royal gardens, and only when the first ray of light peeked over the horizon did they halt their movements completely, though their hands were still entwined and they stood close to one another. Together they watched the gradually paling sky for a few moments, and then the knight broke the silence.

"Please, will you not stay?" The sadness in his voice startled her, for never before had she heard him speak thus. "In truth, I have no wish to be parted from you, and would grieve to see you go."

She turned to look up at him with wonder etched upon her small face, that he should feel so about her. "Truly, I have no desire to be parted from you either. But what if I am turned out upon revealing my identity to one and all? What then shall we do?"

"Should that happen, I will leave with you, if you like." He touched her cheek with gentle fingers, and she was reminded vividly of how he had carried her to the lake on a morning much like this. "For I love you, and wish for nothing more than to be always at your side."

Tears sprang to the little duck's eyes once more, and this time she let them fall freely as she marveled that such joy could be hers. "I love you also," she said, and her smile was as radiant as the approaching sunrise. "Let us never be parted."

They kissed then, as dawn broke fully over them, bathing them in its rich light, and from that day forth remained together, and lived happily in the palace for the rest of their lives.


End file.
